


The Smallest Things

by nyromes



Category: Les Misérables (2012), Les Misérables - All Media Types, Les Misérables - Schönberg/Boublil, Les Misérables - Victor Hugo
Genre: Age Play, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Anal Sex, Barebacking, Bottom Courfeyrac, Daddy Combeferre, Daddy Kink, Diapers, Dirty Talk, Feeding, Fluff, Frottage, Infantilism, Lactation Kink, Little Courfeyrac, M/M, Morning Sex, Nursing, Nursing Kink, Pacifiers, Power Bottom Courfeyrac, Rough Sex, Size Difference, Size Kink, Smut, Top Combeferre, Wetting, littlespace
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-11
Updated: 2017-02-19
Packaged: 2018-09-23 12:45:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,945
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9658019
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nyromes/pseuds/nyromes
Summary: Combeferre loves taking care of Courfeyrac, and Courfeyrac loves being taken care of.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this while staying in Paris, about 200m from where the Musain would have been, barely more than a couple of minutes from Victor Hugo’s tomb, and I feel like it should have felt weirder to me than it actually did.
> 
> Also, I never expected to get into infantilism and diapers and nursing, but here we go… 
> 
> Anyway, embrace your kinks!

 

In hindsight, the Amis should not have been so surprised.

Sure, it’s a little weird to find out about your friends’ kinks, especially if they aren’t all that conventional, but honestly, they could have guessed.

It’s Courfeyrac’s kink after all.

Well, Courfeyrac’s and Combeferre’s, which is a little more astounding, but not entirely inexplicable either.

Courfeyrac is the perfect example of an eternal child: curious and lively and easily excited. He’s always needed a bit more attention than others, and Combeferre’s always been more than happy to give him that.

Being the group’s guide, Combeferre naturally cares deeply for each and every one of them. But he’s also known Courfeyrac since they were toddlers playing in the sandpit behind Fey’s house, and the boy has held a special place in his heart ever since.

The two of them shared their first kiss when they were only eight years old. They held hands on school trips despite the teasing and the disgusted looks they got from classmates. They lost their virginity to each other at the age of fifteen.

There is absolutely nothing they don’t know about the other.

Their lives are so inextricably intertwined in so many ways that Combeferre can’t help but love his friend with all his heart.

Combeferre loves to take care of Courfeyrac, to give him anything he needs and to feel the trust the other boy puts in him, and Courfeyrac loves to be taken care of.

Leave it to Courfeyrac to take that dynamic to the bedroom and to a whole new level.

Knowing the pair as well as they do, the Amis shouldn’t have been as bemused and astounded as they were the first time Courfeyrac cuddled up to Combeferre at the Musain and started whining into the older boy’s shoulder.

Usually, during meetings, the boys keep their affection to a minimum, out of respect for Enjolras’ effort. But by now, all their friends are used to Courfeyrac’s clingy behaviour when he occasionally allows himself to slip into littlespace. It’s no longer weird when he climbs clumsily into Combeferre’s lap and lays his head on the student’s chest like he does now.

Combeferre kisses the top of his head.

“ ’m tired, Ferre,” Courfeyrac mumbles, melting into the warmth of the older boy’s embrace.

He’s not calling him Daddy yet, because they’re still in public even if it’s just their friends, but he’s feeling smaller already, and a little needy, and it’s nice because Ferre is going to take care of him.

Combeferre’s fingers are running through his hair, a soft pressure against his scalp, and Fey lets his eyes fall closed, humming comfortably.

“Want me to take you home, love?”

Courfeyrac nods and slings his arms around Ferre’s neck. He waits patiently as the older boy tells the others that they’re leaving, and then holds on to him when Combeferre picks him up easily. He waves goodbye to his friends, smiling happily, as Ferre carries him outside.

The drive to their apartment is only a few minutes, but by the time Combeferre opens the door on the passenger’s side, Fey is already half asleep, sucking lazily on his thumb. Still, he nods enthusiastically, making grabby-hands at the older student, when Combeferre asks if he wants to be carried upstairs.

“ ’m so sleepy, Daddy,” Courfeyrac mutters, placing his head in the crook of Ferre’s neck.

The medical student’s always been quite a bit taller than Fey, and the way he can pick the younger boy up almost effortlessly makes Courfeyrac feel even smaller than he really is. He sighs contentedly. “ ’m feeling really little right now…”

Combeferre chuckles. “It’s okay, baby, we’ll just get you ready for bed and then we’ll tuck you in so you can take a nap, okay?”

“You gonna stay with me, Daddy?”

“Of course, baby, whatever you want.” He places a kiss on Fey’s forehead as he lays him down on their bed and grabs a large, fluffy teddy from the dresser, handing it to the younger boy. It’s not the only stuffed animal they have, but it’s the first Combeferre bought for him after Fey told him about being a little and it’s definitely Courfeyrac’s favourite.

The dark-haired boy hugs the cuddly animal to his chest, beaming with joy.

“Daaaddy,” he drawls, smiling up at Combeferre.

“I’ll be with you in a minute, sweetheart, I’ll just go and get your bottle and your pyjamas. I won’t be long, I promise.” He ruffles Fey’s hair, then presses his lips to the soft mess of curls. “You just cuddle up with Bear and I’ll be back before you know it.”

Fey seems sceptical, but he nods eventually, letting Combeferre pull the covers up and over him. He blushes a little and looks up at the older boy when Ferre is about to leave the room.

“Daddy?”

“Yeah, baby?”

“Can I- Can we…” He bites his lip. “Can I wear a diaper tonight? Like- like last time?”

Combeferre smiles. “Of course you can, sweetie. You liked that last time?”

Courfeyrac nods, hiding his face in the soft fur of the teddy.

“I’ll get it for you, then,” the older boy tells him simply, because Ferre is just perfect. He’s always known Courfeyrac better than the dark-haired boy knows himself. Sometimes Fey can’t believe his luck.

He smiles and wraps his arms around the cuddly toy as he waits for his Daddy to come back, listening to the sound of Combeferre’s footsteps moving around the apartment. Daddy’s getting his bottle ready, Fey knows, and it’s nice to know he’s being taken care of, but he’d rather Ferre stayed with him.

His eyes widen excitedly when Ferre comes back to the bedroom and drops some of the items in his arms onto the mattress. Kneeling next to the bed, the blond places a napkin and Courfeyrac’s bottle on the nightstand.

“Baby?” he asks softly, “Can you sit up for me so we can take off your shirt? I got your pyjamas for you. The ones with the dinosaurs on it. You just have to sit up and help me get you out of your big boy clothes and we’ll get you into your pyjamas really quickly, okay?” He pulls the covers back to help Fey sit up, and the smaller boy instantly raises his arms so Combeferre can tug his shirt over his head.

“Good boy,” Combeferre praises when Fey’s arms slip free and he falls back onto the bed, squirming a little under the medical student’s loving attention. The blond leans down and kisses the little one’s belly button, and Courfeyrac giggles cheerfully.

“Daddyyy,” he squeals, and Combeferre chuckles, pressing another kiss to Fey’s knee.

“Raise your hips, baby,” Ferre says, a smile in his voice, and Courfeyrac wiggles as he does what his Daddy told him, letting Combeferre pull down his trousers as well as his underwear.

He blushes when he finds himself suddenly naked, his cock half-hard against his lower belly, but Combeferre is quick to reassure him, brushing the strands of dark, curly hair out of his face and leaning in to give him a gentle kiss.

Courfeyrac’s smiling brightly by the time Combeferre backs away.

There’s a rustling noise when the older boy reaches for the diaper he dropped on the bed, and Courfeyrac brings his hands up to cover his eyes in embarrassment.

Combeferre places a hand on his waist, thumb stroking the soft skin of the smaller boy beneath him, but not touching his cock.

“It’s nothing to be embarrassed about, baby,” he murmurs, “It’s okay for little boys to wear nappies. I’m glad you told me.”

“Wanna- Wanna be messy, Daddy,” Courfeyrac whispers bashfully, biting his thumb, and Ferre can’t help but smile.

It’s completely unlike Courfeyrac to be shy about his kinks and preferences, but it’s different when he’s little. He’s less confident then, more vulnerable, and it’s Combeferre’s job to assure him and make him feel loved.

Which isn’t all that difficult, if Combeferre’s honest, because there’s not a single thing he wouldn’t do for his love.

He squeezes the boy’s hand.

“We’ll get you messy, then,” he promises and Fey peeks at him from between his fingers. He pushes his hips up again, so Ferre can put the diaper on him. It feels a little weird, even if it’s not the first time they do this, but it’s good all the same. Courfeyrac closes his legs at the sensation of the thick diaper covering his dick and thrusts up into the air, trying to rub his erection against the rough material of the nappy.

“Not now, baby,” Combeferre chastises, holding him down by the hips, “We’ll take a nap first, okay?”

The smaller boy whines a little and pouts, but he can’t suppress a yawn at the thought of a lazy afternoon. He keeps still as Combeferre helps him into his pyjamas.

The medical student, too, changes into a pair of sweatpants and a simple, white t-shirt, then sits against the headboard and brings the little one up into his lap so Fey’s side is leaning against his chest. Courfeyrac smiles tiredly.

“Hungry?” Combeferre asks and Fey nods.

“Daddy feed me?” he whispers, barely audible, and he snuggles closer, ducking his head a little to mouth at Ferre’s nipple through the fabric of the student’s shirt.

It’s enough of an answer for Combeferre to know what he wants.

He shuffles a little and pulls up the hem of his shirt, and Courfeyrac latches onto his nipple as soon as the fabric is out of the way.

He suckles gently, but needily, even though he knows Combeferre can’t nurse him like that, and Combeferre carefully cards his fingers through the brunet’s hair. In moments like these, the older boy wishes he didn’t need a bottle to feed the little one. The intimacy of being with him this way is like nothing he’s ever felt before.

Maybe one day…

He smiles as he reaches for the napkin and the bottle of banana flavoured almond milk he prepared. As much as Courfeyrac loves to be nursed like a baby, he can’t stand the taste of plain milk.

The younger boy looks up when he feels the silicone tip of the bottle nudge against the corner of his lips, and Combeferre moves the bottle closer to his own chest, holding it so Courfeyrac can nurse on the soft tip of the bottle and Ferre’s nipple at the same time.

The smaller boy hums happily as his mouth fills with the sweet taste of the milk and his hands clutch at his Daddy’s chest, clenching and unclenching with every suck.

It’s a little messy, the way Courfeyrac’s lips move around both the bottle and Combeferre’s nipple, and every once in a while, some of the milk spills from the corner of his mouth when he’s too greedy, but Combeferre holds the napkin under his chin, catching most of the liquid before it drips down.

Courfeyrac moans softly when Ferre brushes his lips against his temple, and he presses a hand down on the bulge of his nappy, hips jerking into the pressure of his palm. It’s not enough to get him off, but it sends sparks of pleasure through him that have him tremble in older boy’s lap.

Combeferre hisses when Courfeyrac sucks harder, his nipple starting to feel sore, and the little one quickly draws away at the sound, his lips red and wet with milk and saliva and his eyes worried.

“I’m good, sweetie, it’s fine,” Combeferre assures, “Maybe just move to the other side?”

Courfeyrac nods and closes his lips around the other nipple, licking and sucking dreamily as he waits for Combeferre to rearrange the bottle. He drinks slower now, no longer as hungrily as before, until he eventually abandons the bottle entirely and just suckles lazily on Ferre’s nipple.

“Good?” Combeferre asks as he sets the now almost empty bottle aside, and Courfeyrac leans back to nestle into his arms, humming in agreement.

“Still hard, Daddy,” he whines.

“I know, baby, I know,” Combeferre soothes, hugging him closer and trailing a hand up and down the little one’s back.

He knows Fey's not actually asking for release. The dark-haired boy enjoys to be denied almost as much as he likes to get off.

“Can you be good for Daddy and wait? We’ll take care of it once you’re done with your nap. You can come in your diaper, then, get yourself all messy, okay?”

“ ‘kay,” Courfeyrac concedes, smiling up at Ferre with heavy eyes.

“My gorgeous boy.”

Ferre spreads a towel out on the bed beneath Fey’s hips, just in case, before lying down next to him and gathering the boy’s slightly built frame into his arms. The weight of Courfeyrac’s head on his shoulder feels so natural to Combeferre by now, it’s hard to fall asleep without it. But the little one curls into him immediately, pressing close to the student’s chest and holding on to the fabric of Ferre’s t-shirt, and Combeferre can’t resist the urge to kiss him.

He cups the side of the boy’s face and guides him up. There’s no open-mouthed kissing when Fey’s little, no teeth or tongue, just the gentle touch of Combeferre’s lips on Courfeyrac’s, and the warmth of Ferre’s fingertips on the younger boy’s face.

“Love you, Daddy,” Courfeyrac mumbles as he nuzzles into the crook of Ferre’s neck and his eyelids flutter closed, tickling the older boy’s skin.

Combeferre’s not sure if Fey’s still awake when he whispers that he loves him too, but with the way the smaller boy melts into his embrace he’s sure Courfeyrac knows either way.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The title is part of a quote from Winnie-the-Pooh. In full length, the quote says: “Sometimes, the smallest things take up the most room in your heart.”


	2. Chapter 2

When Combeferre wakes up a few hours later, it's to the sound of Courfeyrac's soft whimpers and the short, jerky movements of the little boy's hips.

Courfeyrac's still lying at his side, his head resting on Combeferre's arm, but he’s turned around to face the soft cuddly bear that's been lying next to them on the bed and which he's now clutching to his chest with shaking hands.

Combeferre can tell the younger boy's desperate.

Wrapping his free arm around Courfeyrac's waist, he turns onto his side as well so the boy's back is pressed against his front. Courfeyrac sobs when he feels Ferre's steadying grip on his waist, the movement of his hips to coming to a cruel stop.

"Shhh, sweetheart, it's okay," Combeferre whispers when Courfeyrac starts crying, and he brushes a kiss to the back of his head, nose buried in the mess of dark, sweaty curls.

"So hard, Daddy," the smaller boy chokes out, tears wetting Combeferre's skin as he presses his face into the older boy's arm. "Hurts."

"I know, baby. You're doing so well, though. Such a good boy for me." He cards his fingers through Courfeyrac's hair, trying to calm him down and smiling in relief when Fey practically melts into the touch.

"How long have you been up?"

The little one clumsily wipes at his eyes, swallowing another sob.

"Dunno," he manages eventually, squirming weakly in Ferre's hold. "Nappy's wet."

He's crying again, desperately trying to move his hips and grind against the big cuddly toy in his arms. Loosening his grip, Combeferre moves his hand down to push against the younger boy's cock through the fabric of his pyjamas and the thick material of the diaper.

He's not surprised the little one’s so wound up. The diaper feels heavy to his touch, entirely soaked, and it's clear Courfeyrac's been lying in his own piss for a while now, not daring to get himself off and risk disappointing his Daddy.

The older boy’s cock stirs at the thought, but he pushes his desire aside, focusing all of his attention on Courfeyrac instead.

"Daddy's so proud of you," he murmurs into the younger boy's ear. "Such a good little boy, trying not to touch yourself even when you're all messy. Daddy loves you so much."

He wraps his arm around both Courfeyrac and the bear and holds the toy pressed against the little one's crotch, allowing him to thrust into its friction more easily. Courfeyrac moans, his legs starting to shake as he tries not to come without his Daddy's permission.

“Da- Daddy-”

Combeferre smiles.

"It's okay, love. I know you want to come in your nappy and make it even messier. You're being so good for your Daddy. My perfect boy... You can come whenever you're ready."

He nuzzles the back of Fey's neck, keeping him close, and he knows his permission is all the other boy needed.

It only takes a couple more thrusts for Courfeyrac to go tense in Ferre's arms, his whole body trembling with the force of his orgasm, and a series of weak, broken cries falling from his open lips.

He's beautiful, the way he squirms and whimpers through his high. It makes Combeferre's heart clench with affection.

Courfeyrac slumps down bonelessly once his limbs stop shaking, and Combeferre moves him gently until Fey’s lying on top of him, his head resting on the blond’s chest. Combeferre keeps whispering to him as Courfeyrac tries to regain his breath, and after a while the dark-haired boy opens his eyes, looking up to meet the older student’s loving gaze.

His voice sounds exhausted when he speaks. “Thank you, Daddy.”

Combeferre shakes his head fondly. “Anything for my baby. You don’t need to thank me.”

The light in Courfeyrac’s eyes seems to brighten the room when he wraps his arms around Combeferre’s neck, and Combeferre wishes he could stop the time and stay in this moment forever because there’s no way he’ll ever get enough of Courfeyrac’s smile.

“Love you, too, Daddy,” Fey sighs before Combeferre can even say what’s on his mind. He just pulls Courfeyrac closer in reply, playing with his hair and listening to the little boy’s breathing until Courfeyrac begins to squirm again, starting to feel uncomfortable.

“Want to get cleaned up, sweetheart? We can change your nappy if you want to keep wearing one,” Combeferre suggests when Courfeyrac wrinkles his nose at the way the wet diaper sticks to his skin. The younger boy nods emphatically, holding on to Ferre’s shoulders and wrapping his legs around his Daddy’s waist as Combeferre carries him to the bathroom.

The counter next to the sink is big enough for Courfeyrac to lie down on it, mostly because of Courfeyrac’s tiny figure, and Combeferre lays a towel down under his back to protect him from the cold surface of the countertop.

The blond makes quick work of changing the diaper, tossing the soiled nappy into the bin and wiping his little boy clean with practiced hands before applying some baby powder and strapping the tabs of the new diaper into place.

He tells Courfeyrac to wait as he gets a dark blue onesie from the younger boy’s chest of drawers, and the little one squeals in delight when Combeferre helps him put it on. There are dozens of small white star constellations printed on the onesie, and it’s one of Courfeyrac’s favourites.

“What do you want to do today?” Combeferre asks as he kisses Courfeyrac’s stomach and fastens the buttons of the onesie. They left the meeting before lunch and only slept a couple of hours, so there’s still about half a day left.

Courfeyrac sucks at his lower lip as he thinks about it, then blinks up at Combeferre, smiling innocently.

“Daddy read to me?”

“Of course,” Combeferre nods, kissing the tip of Fey’s nose.

The smaller boy’s positively bouncing when Combeferre lifts him off the counter and tells him to go choose a book.

They meet in the living room, both boys cuddling up on the couch, and Courfeyrac hands him the book he picked: _The Complete Collection of Winnie-the-Pooh_.

Combeferre laughs. It’s one of his favourites, too.

He pulls the smaller boy into his arm so he can nestle up against his side and opens the front cover of the book, thumbing to the first page. There’s only a single sentence on it, saying _This Book Belongs To_ , and below, on a dotted line and in big squiggly handwriting: _FEY_.

Courfeyrac points at the letters.

“Mine,” he says proudly, his bright eyes looking up at the older boy.

Combeferre nods. “Yep, all yours, baby.”

The little one smiles and settles back down on Ferre’s shoulder, watching Combeferre turn the pages to where they last left off and listening attentively as the medical student starts to read.

“One day when Pooh Bear had nothing else to do, he thought he would do something, so he went round to Piglet’s house to see what Piglet was doing. It was still snowing as he stumped over the white forest track, and he expected to find Piglet warming his toes in front of his fire…”

For more than an hour, Courfeyrac’s quiet, which is rare, but he never interrupts when Combeferre’s reading to him. He just melts into the warmth of Ferre’s body and listens to the older boy’s voice until Combeferre closes the book and puts it aside, placing a kiss to the top of Fey’s head.

“You’re a lot like Piglet, you know?”

Courfeyrac frowns, so Ferre tries to explain.

“You’re small, but brave, and you’d do anything for your friends. That’s why everyone loves you.”

The smaller boy smiles.

“You’re like Owl, or Rabbit, but much more cleverer… Like Christopher Robin. You take care of all of us.” His fingers poke at Ferre’s chest. “And ’Taire’s a little like Eeyore.”

He wraps his arms around his Daddy’s neck, throwing a leg across his thighs.

“Eey-R,” he grins, and Ferre can’t help but laugh.

“I love you, baby.”

“Love you, too, Daddy.”

Combeferre ruffles the boy’s hair and sits up, bringing Courfeyrac with him.

“I’ll go make you something to eat, okay? Do you want me to get you something to play with while I’m gone?”

“Want Bunny,” Courfeyrac decides, “And Legos.”

“Want me to get your soothie, too?”

The little one nods excitedly, holding his hands out when Combeferre comes back with the toys and the dummy. He tucks the stuffed bunny under his arm and sucks happily on the soother, scattering the Legos on the ground.

Combeferre watches him for a minute before turning to the kitchen to prepare the younger boy’s dinner. He makes a sandwich for himself, eating it as he sets the table.

Courfeyrac’s still playing in the living room, building towers with his Legos and knocking them down again when Combeferre comes to pick him up. He pouts a little as he’s being set down on a chair and Combeferre takes his soother, but his mood lightens again when the older boy ties a bib around his neck and holds a spoon of mashed sweet potatoes and peas to his lips.

It’s a simple meal, nothing special, but Combeferre’s a good cook, and he’s feeding him with the blue plastic spoon from the set of children’s cutlery they got a few weeks ago, and Courfeyrac’s smiling contentedly until his Daddy picks up a carrot.

He shakes his head, turning away from Combeferre and glaring at the spoon in his hand. “Mm-mh.”

The blond sighs.

“Please, baby? For me? You know it’s good for you. See,” he says, eating one of the carrots, “It’s not that bad.”

But the younger one’s still sulking.

“No!”

“We can watch a film later if you’re good? You eat the carrots and I’ll let you pick the film.”

That seems to get the smaller boy’s attention. Courfeyrac bites his lip, looking sceptically at the accursed, orange vegetable, then at Combeferre. Eventually, though, he opens his mouth, reluctantly letting the medical student feed him. He grimaces at the taste, but finishes his meal bravely, even if some of the sweet potato ends up on his chin.

Ferre places him in his lap once he’s done and uses Fey’s bib to clean him up, before kissing his forehead.

The little one smiles like he just won the lottery when Ferre sets him down and tells him to go pick a movie. Ferre chuckles, watching the boy waddle excitedly over to the living room and flopping down in front of the DVD shelf.

By the time Combeferre's placed the dirty dishes in the sink, Courfeyrac's found the DVD he wants and is climbing onto the sofa, waiting for his Daddy to get the movie playing.

Ferre lies down next to him once the opening credits fade in, and Courfeyrac clambers on top of him, settling on his chest. He places his hand over the older one's heart, humming contentedly when Ferre kisses the top of his head.

It's at least the fifth time they watch _Finding Dory_ together, and Combeferre could probably talk along to the dialogues by now, but he doesn't really mind because Courfeyrac loves it so much. They had to go and see it when it was still playing in cinemas, Courfeyrac dragging him along, and much to Combeferre's surprise they weren't the only adults there to buy tickets to a children’s film.

After having seen it so many times, Combeferre's no longer paying much attention to what's going on on the screen. But he’s happy to watch Courfeyrac's reactions instead, loving the feeling of the smaller boy giggling and squirming in his arms.

Little by little, Courfeyrac's breathing slows down and his eyelids grow heavy, and by the end of the movie he's sleeping soundly on Ferre's chest.

For about an hour Combeferre doesn't move. He merely places a hand on the small of Fey's back, making sure the little one's steady.

When he wakes him with gentle fingers running through the smaller boy's hair, quietly muttering Courfeyrac's name, he younger one only shakes his head groggily.

“Sleepyy,” he slurs.

"It's not for long, baby, we just need to change your diaper and I'll take you to bed after. I don't want you to get a rash. You can have your soother, too."

The dark-haired boy whines and buries his face in the side of Ferre's neck, but he lets the older one carry him to the bathroom without any real protest.

His eyes keep falling shut even as Combeferre lays him down on the counter and tosses the nappy, but he squirms and closes his legs when Ferre reaches for a new diaper.

"No nappy," he mumbles, blinking his eyes. "Might grow up soon..."

“Okay,” Combeferre smiles. "No nappies then."

He decides on a pair of simple, white boxers instead, with little blue dolphins on it, and grey pyjamas with dark blue seams and buttons.

“Soothie, Daddy,” Courfeyrac reminds him, casting Combeferre an overly reproachful glance.

“You still want that?”

Courfeyrac nods.

“Alright. Here you go, sweetheart.”

The little one hums happily around the soother and stretches his hands out so Combeferre can gather him into his arms.

Combeferre’s not surprised when they get into bed and the younger boy sniffles, his shoulders starting to shake. Courfeyrac often starts crying after spending so much time in a different headspace. He’s exhausted and sulky, and Combeferre understands.

He was anxious the first few times it happened, but Courfeyrac assured him that he doesn’t need to worry about it. It’s just his way of dealing with his emotions, and as long as Combeferre is there to hold him and comfort him, everything is alright.

Combeferre wraps the covers tightly around them to make sure the younger one is comfy and warm, then leans their foreheads together and kisses Fey’s nose.

It takes a while for Courfeyrac’s sobbing to slowly die down and his breathing to even out, but Combeferre’s content to just keep him close and rock him gently until the younger boy nods off.

It’s only 9pm, and Combeferre probably won’t be able to sleep for at least another hour, but that’s okay. He’d do anything for Courfeyrac.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The excerpt Combeferre reads to Courfeyrac is taken from the first chapter of A. A. Milne’s The House at Pooh Corner, “In which a house is built at Pooh Corner for Eeyore.” It’s one of my favourite books and you should totally read it if you haven’t done so already. It’s really, really beautiful.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "They don't usually have 'Big Boy Sex' when Fey's little, but that only makes Courfeyrac crave it all the more when he's back in his normal headspace."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, finally, last chapter! 
> 
> I just really wanted to get this posted before going back to uni.
> 
> I hope you enjoy!

The first thing Combeferre notices when he blinks his eyes open the next morning is that Courfeyrac's no longer little. He knows because Courfeyrac’s not lying by his side anymore, sucking his soother, but is straddling the older boy's thighs instead, a coy smile on his beautiful face.

He’s gotten rid of his pyjamas and is wearing nothing but his boxers now, his chest bare under Combeferre’s wandering hands. He leans down to nibble at the lobe of Ferre’s ear, grinning when he hears the student’s breath catch in his throat.

"Good morning, Daddy," he whispers, and his voice is so damn cocky.

Combeferre can feel his blood rush to his dick as the younger one grinds their hips together, pressing his already hard cock against Combeferre's.

He groans. How is he supposed to keep his composure? He’s barely awake, it’s not fair.

"Need you, Daddy," Courfeyrac breathes, lips so close to the other boy’s ear, "Need you inside me... Please- Please fuck me, Daddy."

He moves a little, then circles his hips and pushes down again, drawing another moan from Combeferre. The pressure on his cock, the sight of Courfeyrac on top of him... It's enough to make him feel dizzy.

Courfeyrac chuckles.

They don't usually have "Big Boy Sex" when Fey's little, but that only makes Courfeyrac crave it all the more when he's back in his normal headspace.

He places his hand over Combeferre’s and guides it to the small of his back, past the waistband of his boxers, until Ferre’s fingertips graze the rim of his hole.

He smirks complacently when the blond’s eyes widen with realisation.

“Prepped myself when you were asleep. Wanted to surprise you… I had to be so damn quiet, but, God, you’re so gorgeous, you’ve no idea.” He bucks his hips back against the touch of Ferre’s fingers. “Want you so bad… Fuck-”

His voice breaks off when Combeferre thrusts two fingers into him without warning, twisting them roughly, the way Courfeyrac likes, and the stretch is so much better than what the younger boy could do himself.

“Fuck, Fey… The things you do to me…” He adds another finger, barely meeting resistance. “My perfect boy.”

Courfeyrac groans and leans down to catch his friend’s lips in a heated kiss that leaves them both breathless and shaky when he pulls back. He quickly removes his boxers, helping the older boy get rid of his clothes before climbing back on top of him.

His eyes are hazy with lust as they meet Combeferre’s.

“Wanna ride you,” he says, grinding down and letting Ferre’s cock slip between his cheeks.

Combeferre nods and puts his hands on the smaller boy's tiny waist, holding him steady as Courfeyrac sits up and holds the tip of Ferre's cock to his entrance.

“Fuck-” he gasps when the head breaches the first ring of muscles, and he tilts his head back, letting his eyelids flutter closed. Combeferre watches in awe as Fey’s thighs begin to tremble and he tries to relax, slowly sinking down on the other boy's dick.

“You’re so big, fuck, Combeferre- Feels so good...”

He leans his forehead against Ferre’s as soon as he's fully seated in his lap, the entire length of Ferre's cock buried inside him. Gripping his friend's shoulder, he takes a moment to breathe, trying to adjust to the older boy’s size.

Combeferre’s big, and despite all the preparation Courfeyrac’s still tight, his tiny frame struggling to take the length of Ferre’s shaft.

The blond places a hand over Fey’s lower belly and gently presses down, causing Courfeyrac to whimper feebly.

“Ferre- ’s so much.”

“You’re doing so well, baby. So beautiful…”

“All yours,” Courfeyrac pants.

“All mine.”

The dark-haired boy closes his eyes again, relishing the burn of his friend’s hard cock stretching his walls, before moving his hips experimentally, lifting himself up just a little before sinking back down.

“So deep- Filling me up like this- Ah, God- Fucking love your cock.”

He starts to move faster, bracing one hand on Combeferre's chest and gripping the headboard with the other, clenching his muscles every time he raises himself up.

Combeferre's hands run along his sides, soothing the burn in his thighs and helping him move, and Courfeyrac can't help the bright grin on his face.

It's perfect bliss.

His moans fill the space of their bedroom when he circles his hips again and the head of Ferre's cock hits his prostate, the pleasure blinding him for the fracture of a second.

Ferre flips them over when the muscles in Fey’s thighs give out and he falls forward, his forehead dropping against the older boy's chest. The sudden movement makes the younger boy gasp, and his breath catches in his throat as Combeferre slides between his legs and pushes back in in one deep thrust.

"Fuck me hard," the little one pants, wide eyes looking up at Combeferre, and the medical student never could say no to Courfeyrac.

Gripping the boy's hip with one hand and fisting the other one in Courfeyrac’s hair, Combeferre slams into him hard. There are going to be bruises on his hip for the next few days, but Combeferre knows Courfeyrac will wear them with pride. His fingers tug at the younger one's curls, and Courfeyrac cries out when sparks of pain shoot through him in time with Combeferre's thrusts. Throwing his head back into the pillows, Courfeyrac spreads his legs even wider, allowing Combeferre to push into him faster, his fingers clawing at the sheets.

“Fuck- Yes. Ah- Again.”

He grins as he wraps his arms around the older boy's shoulders, moving his hips to thrust back against Ferre's cock.

"God, Ferre- Oh-"

"Close?"

"Yeah," Courfeyrac gasps, his voice raw, "Fuck, yeah."

He pulls Combeferre down into an open-mouthed kiss and crosses his legs behind the other boy’s back, drawing him in deeper. Combeferre swallows his moans, smiling against the little one’s lips as he picks up the pace.

Courfeyrac's fingers grip his wrist when Combeferre reaches down to wrap his hand around the younger boy’s cock. He shakes his head.

“Don’t-” he manages, “Wanna come like this, just from your cock. Feels so good, Ferre… Fuck- I’m so close.”

“Me too,” Combeferre breathes.

“Come with me… Wanna feel you come inside me, filling me up-” He slips his hands up to the back of Ferre’s neck, fingers curling into the blond’s short hair. “Want your come dripping out of me when we’re done… Please, Ferre-”

He cries out as Combeferre bites down hard on his neck and his orgasm takes him by surprise, making him arch and clutch at Combeferre’s shoulders. His muscles tighten violently around the other boy’s cock before he goes lax and slumps back into the mattress, simply taking Combeferre’s thrusts with faint, high-pitched mewls. After a few more seconds, Combeferre follows, Fey’s name on his lips as he comes deep inside the smaller boy’s body.

He collapses next to Courfeyrac on the bed, wrapping an arm around his friend’s chest and pulling him close. They’re both sticky with sweat and come, but neither of them cares.

Combeferre trails a hand down the younger boy’s back, letting his fingers travel further until they catch on the rim of Fey’s hole. The dark-haired boy quivers under the touch, and Combeferre grins when he feels his own come trickling from his friend’s entrance.

They’re still catching their breath, but the smile on Courfeyrac’s face is dazzling when he looks up at Combeferre.

“I’m gonna be so sore,” he remarks laughingly as he tucks his head under Ferre’s chin, obviously pleased with himself.

He presses a kiss to his friend’s collar bone.

“That was amazing. Seriously… I love you, Daddy.”

Combeferre smiles.

“I love you too, baby boy.”

 

 


End file.
